The Pumpkin man is Potty trained. Completely and reliably using the potty every (97% of the) time. As long as he is naked. I'll revise that. As long as he is naked from the waist down. Which is a charming look, the tshirt with wangle/testicle accessories. The dad of a childhood friend used to rock that look late at night or very early in the morning and let me tell you, the Pman pulls it off better. Slightly.
He loves being naked. Who doesn't? And his lack of self-consciousness is wonderful until I'm on my hands and knees on the floor cleaning up a mess and I feel his toddler bulk slam into my back. Then he gets good handfuls of my shirt, digs in his heels, and climbs right up to my head. Hello, my son's junk. How are you? Have you ever heard of a little thing called personal space? No? Well, this isn't it.
On the bright side. that view is at least equaled by the sight of my naked boy joining in with his mother and sister as they go through their yoga routine. Wow, that's an eye full. I feel like we should be putting quarters or flowers in or something in there. Maybe some spackle. Or a sparkler.
We do encourage nakedness around here to a degree. We read somewhere that it's good for little ones, so we try not to stifle their natural inclinations. We have a dance where whoever is naked--or almost naked except for their underwear--rubs their own belly and does a little hula swivel and chants "naaaked Baaybeh, naaked baaybeh." But they're definitely getting a little old for that. Or I am.
He's having trouble with telling us when he needs to go while he's wearing a diaper. But obviously I can't take him out naked. Our climate is too cold. Discomfort and shrinkage.
We're training him through a reward system similar to what we used on the Peanut. He gets candy every time he goes. 2 M&Ms for urination, 4 for defecation, 6 for both, 11 if we see him reading a newspaper while he does it.
This works, but it also leads him to stretching one piss into three or four different potty sessions. The devious bastard.
I can't wait for him to be done, but at the same time, it'll signify that we have no more babies. Just little kids.
Which is ok, really. I'm ready for them to be little kids. One more year and they'll be able to fend for themselves. Unlike their father.